


Trust

by shuralove



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Other, Sexual Fantasy, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23776447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuralove/pseuds/shuralove
Summary: Fantasies shared
Relationships: F/F/F - Relationship
Kudos: 1





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re upload

I trust you.

Trusts that this is right. For us. It feels right. Feelings of the forbidden and uncertainty, the initial emotions, have faded away to be replaced by ones of desire and want.  
This is new. Sure, under a blanket of darkness and in the throws of passion, words have been said; secrets and fantasies have been shared.

"YES! God, there. Right fucking there".

"Do you like this?"

"Imagine I do this".

"Pretend I’m such and such."

But they have gone no further.

Not once, have I felt pressurised, not once have I felt my thoughts unimportant. Rather, I have always known you and accepted you for who you are. From the outset I have been able to look at you, into your curious, changeable eyes and understand you. The years we have spent together have merely cemented this fact.

I have never sought to change you- why on earth would I want to? It was that whole persona; the wildness I saw in you, the oh so sharp brain, the unfailing kindness of heart that caught my attention and has never let me go. You are intoxicating.

So now, with another anniversary just round the corner, the time feels right to try something; something new and as yet unexplored. I know it is your deepest, most longed for desire. That I am not shocked or hurt, that I am willing to share in this with you, is, to myself somewhat of a surprise. I know that I cannot share this with another soul - for who would understand the extremes of love and lust we feel for each other and how we demonstrate that?

A few emails are all it takes and a plan is in place.

I’ve booked dinner for later than normal, a fact you have commented on, but so far, touch wood, you have no real knowledge as to why. Preparations require time. And effort.  
And I can be so very thorough, a fact I know you will appreciate.

We decide to ready ourselves separately, giving the whole evening the feel of a date. Smiling contentedly at that thought, I busy myself, and dress in our spare room. I can hear soft music drifting out from the door you have left ajar to our room; something I cannot readily place. I take a moment to sit quietly and listen, letting the unknown singer’s voice wash over me, soothing me.

I am seated at the mirror putting the finishing touches to my hair and make up. And I smile at my reflection. I can see the differences in my face, the extra lines and wrinkles; but instead of worrying me, they comfort me. For, I see looking back at me, a woman who has lived. And is loved.

I check my appearance in the full length mirror and I'm satisfied that it will meet your approval; for yes, I have dressed for you tonight. I search in my handbag for the finishing touch. I take out the perfume, the scent of which has been known to distract you somewhat, and apply it to all the places where I anticipate your touch later. Wearing what could reasonably be described as a smirk on my face, I gather my coat and bag and see whether or not you have managed to get yourself ready before me; if you have it would be the very first time. And sure enough, when I call after you to check, the familiar refrain of “another ten minutes darling” meets my ears, so I decide to pour myself a drink and wait.  
I take my drink outside, enjoying the last of the hazy sunshine as it warms my skin. It has been a glorious day, the best of days. I sip the refreshing drink slowly, savouring the taste of the alcohol as it slips so easily down, when I feel the phone vibrate inside my handbag.

I’ve been both waiting and dreading this moment all day. I reach into the bag to remove the phone.

‘Still on? Will see you @ 9.30 as planned unless I hear otherwise’

I read the words and although there is a sudden rush of nerves, I can feel excitement building. I carefully replace my phone in my bag and go back inside.

The fragrance of flowers fills my senses afresh, lingering as I move about the apartment. Having flowers in our home is not a new or surprising occurrence, but the abundance is. I can see dotted around, splashes of vibrant colour from the blossoms we have chosen for each other; tulips and orchids. Tulips for me and after some careful thought I chose orchids; they reflect your exotic and vibrant personality perfectly.

Checking the delicate silver watch fastened on my wrist, your gift for me, I’m aware that time is racing past and we need to get moving if my plan is to come together. I head towards the door, bag and jacket in hand, prepared to cajole you if necessary, but the door bursts open with a flourish and there you are. I’m stopped in my tracks. You are simply the loveliest thing I’ve ever set my fortunate eyes on. And not for he first time, I offer up a silent prayer of thankfulness. I look at you, absorbing every last detail of your appearance. And I realise we have done the very same thing; we have dressed for each other.

Starting at the top I notice your hair has been left to dry naturally and is falling in soft waves over your shoulders and down your back and my fingers yearn to know the softness for themselves. You are wearing black pin striped trousers and the tightest black shirt. And you’ve left maybe one button too many undone. A fact I know is done for my benefit. My hungry gaze continues lower and I have to stop myself from moaning out loud when I see you have on a pair of black converses. You radiate such an easy, relaxed and confident sexuality. Whereas you have chosen a masculine outfit, I have opted for a more feminine one for you; a deceptively demure black silk dress. Demure that is, until I turn around. Then you will see there is no back to it at all. I know you see, just as well as you, all your weak points. I’m making sure that you won’t be seeing that though until later. In public, possibly over dinner. I’m anticipating your reaction greatly, enjoying having this secret knowledge. Teasing is something I do so well.

I reach out to catch your hand in mine and, pulling you to me, we indulge in a soft and lingering kiss. Hands carefully caressing, understanding the need for restraint. The toot of the taxi outside disturbs our impromptu make out session and reluctantly we pull apart. I leave first, letting you lock the apartment. I hear you wolf whistle appreciatively from behind me, prompting me to sway my hips provocatively as I stroll down the path. We walk companionably to the awaiting car, me leaning against you. Your arm draped casually around my shoulders. The word gallant enters my mind.

The journey to the restaurant passes by in a comfortable silence; both of us content and relaxed. I find my gaze captured by the people I see rushing past outside, so seemingly focused on their destinations. I am fascinated by the apparent ordinariness of them and I contemplate their lives and their stories; are they happy? Fulfilled? Know love? My fingers seek the reassuring comfort of yours and I take your hand in mine for the remainder of the journey. The taxi turns left onto the waterfront where the restaurant sits. The fading light is casting the most delicate shades of mauve, amber and pale pale turquoise as the sun gracefully slips behind the horizon. It seems to me as if nature is joining with us to celebrate our love. I have to stop myself from laughing at my fanciful notions. We take a moment to pause and enjoy the panoramic views of the river before continuing onwards up the path.

We are shown immediately to our seats; a table for two in a quiet and secluded recess. I’m glad to see that the manager has indeed heeded my request for privacy. The waiter hands over two menus before leaving us to peruse the offerings and make our selections. I begin to unbutton my jacket and, just as I knew you would, you smack my hand away to do the task yourself. Your reaction to my exposed back is even better than I could have ever hoped for. I hear an audible gasp from behind me and your hand reaches out to trace the curve of my spine so teasingly slowly. From the nape of my neck right down to the small of my back, your touch burns my skin. I unconsciously lengthen my spine, head stretching downwards, undulating catlike under your loving caress. I’m aware that the gesture could be seen as one of surrender, of submissiveness. And I’m glad. It would be accurate. We both know that I’ll do anything for you.

A fact I aim to prove tonight.

We browse the menu and make our choices. I leave you to order; for I have somewhere I need to be. Under the pretense of needing to powder my nose, I make my way to the bathroom where I pray to god she is already waiting.

I open the door and to my eternal relief she is indeed there, and I’m more than aware of how little justice the photograph she sent did her. For all the world she looks like she is re applying her lipstick. I however, know better. I catch her eyes in the mirror and she smiles at my reflection before turning to face me, no hesitancy or awkwardness apparent. I reach into my bag, remove the key she is waiting for and she takes it; putting it safely into her pocket and with that, leaves. The whole process has taken maybe four minutes maximum, though it feels so much longer. I lean, back against the sink, my mind trying to race off in a million different directions at once. I take a few deep relaxing breaths before heading back to where you wait.

I see you have ordered champagne. How fitting. Tonight is certainly about celebrating.

You raise a toast to ’us’ and I smile broadly as I raise my glass to join yours. Of course, we have to entwine arms to drink; an ironic nod to conventionality. The meal itself is delicious.

The company and conversation, though, are even better.

We talk about so many things. Important issues and ideas, trivial matters, work, friends, music, women. And I’m reminded afresh of how much I simply adore your company. I sit across from you and notice your vivid sparkly eyes that light up each time you smile. The restaurant and the patrons all fade away into the background when compared with your incomparable luminescence. Before I know it, desserts are being placed in front of us along with a new bottle of champagne.

I watch you intently; notice how you scoop up the strawberries so carefully and dip then into the fresh cream before sliding them into that mouth. Oh how I love that mouth; what pleasure it’s capable of imparting. You don’t attempt to hide your delight as the flavours burst on your tongue; eyes closed, broad smile on your face. It’s quite an image I can tell you. I find myself enjoying experiencing this vicariously through you. But then you open those eyes and I’m transfixed by the heat in your gaze. You let the spoon slip from your mouth, seductively slowly, and again I watch you scoop up the plump, juicy red fruit and cream. Only this time, you offer the spoon to me. I lean over, eyes fixed on yours the whole time. You make me wait. It seems inexorably long before you deign to allow me to taste for myself and I’m reminded afresh that the extent of your teasing extends far beyond the bedroom. The fruit tastes divine, though a part of me can’t help but think that a forbidden red apple would be so much more appropriate. I accept the fruit into my mouth but I don’t move. Instead I lean imperceptibly over to you, hands resting chastely atop the table, beckoning you forward. I can see the moment understanding dawns in your mind. Our mouths meet so softly, I barely feel your lips caress mine. You run the very tip of your tongue over my bottom lip, the only part of us actually in contact. Jolts of electricity rocket through me. I’m aware of you biting through the soft flesh of the strawberry and taking it for yourself. I pull back then to watch you, only to see a rivulet of red juice escape your mouth, running down your chin. I can’t help my self. I lean over and trail my tongue languidly over the path the juice has left, capturing your lips in soft, open mouthed kiss. If anything, it tastes better on your skin. Thank goodness for the privacy the booth we have affords us.

I realise that I really need to enlighten you as to my plans for the rest of the evening. I decide I will wait until we have settled our bill.

I suggest a stroll along the river front before we head home, an offer you gladly accept. We stroll along hand in hand, looking up at the night sky; a velvety black backdrop against which the twinkling stars and bright moon shine majestically. I am still for one transient moment, wishing I were an artist or a poet able to do justice to the feeling of perfection I find dwelling in me. I bring us to a halt and we stop to look at the reflection of the moon on the river lapping gently at the sea wall. It is hypnotic in its peacefulness. I turn to look at you and the love I see shining back at me gives the confidence to tell you of my plan. I begin falteringly, tripping over my words, almost, but the more I talk, the more excited I get. The whole time I speak you utter not a word, letting me have my say. When it’s clear I am done, you remove one hand from mine and wrap it firmly round my neck and pull me to you for a hungry, possessive kiss. I feel your gratitude with every stroke of your tongue against mine. I can’t wait to get you home.

The wait for the taxi and the ensuing journey is a test on our nerves. Every possible traffic light it seems is at red. I text from the taxi, alerting her to the fact that we should be home shortly. We share a look. It hints at want and desire and incredulity possibly, but also encompassing hesitancy.

Will we go through with this?

The taxi pulls up at our apartment and right away I notice a welcoming light emanating from the small window above the doorway; our bedroom window. You pay the driver as I exit the taxi fumbling for the keys from my handbag. The staccato sound of my stilettos ricocheting off the pavement is the only sound to be heard. We weave our way up the path, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I wonder where she will be waiting for us. I have no time really to contemplate that question in any depth. We arrive at the door. I unlock it and we silently make our way into the hallway, removing jackets, bags and I deposit the key onto a small glass table. I let you lead. Correction, you take the lead. The door which opens onto the living room is ajar allowing soft, shadowy light to spill onto the hall. You carefully push open the door further and I watch, unobserved, as you scan the room. You smile.

She is there.

You turn to me before entering the room. And I follow you. She rises to her feet when we enter the room, a champagne flute in each hand. I notice her hands; graceful slender fingers, slim wrists encased by a chunky silver watch and a French manicure finishes the elegant look. I congratulate myself on my impeccable taste. I really could not have chosen better. For either of us.

We accept the champagne and agree to her suggestion of taking the chilled bucket with us to our bedroom where we can relax further. She really is putting us at ease very quickly. Her manner is professional but warm and I feel any underlying tension leaving my body. I look at you and the smile on your face tells me all I need to know. She takes the bucket and her own glass. You turn to me, take hold of my hand and we follow.

The bedroom, when we get there, is ablaze with candlelight. Gentle shadows are being cast upon the walls and upon the bed. It’s beautiful. The bedding is turned back and soft music is playing in the background. Part of me cannot help but wonder how many times she has done this, but I firmly shake that thought from my mind. I want to live in this moment and experience it fully and joyfully.

I have decided to take a step back, let you dictate how this unfolds. After all, this is my gift to you.

I see you hesitate, unsure of how to proceed. So I give you another gift from me, an impromptu one this time; my blessing. I take your glass from you, kiss you fully on the mouth, lingeringly and ghosting my lips across your cheek I whisper one word into your ear; something only you can hear. I feel you relax further against me and I go and take my seat next to the bed.

You turn to where she is seated on our bed and go to her. She is sitting back, leaning on her hands, feet not quite touching the floor; the picture of relaxation. You lean down towards her, catching my eye as you do so and capture her lips with yours. I feel my breath leave me in a sudden exhalation. Her hands automatically rise up to tangle in your hair, pulling you even closer. Her fingers disappear in your locks, stroking and learning the softness for herself. From where I sit I can see the delicateness of the kiss. It’s almost chaste. I am spellbound; completely and utterly. You are both so beautiful together. I can barely ascribe a name to the tumultuous emotions racing through my body. There is wonder, awe, pride, love, desire. The kiss continues and I can see it is deepening. Hands are sliding down from hair to explore further, learning new responses along the way. She pops one button on your shirt and I suddenly know that I want to join in. Watching isn’t enough. She has her back to me and I see your head snap back as she latches onto your neck, suckling and biting. Your hands are on her back, sliding where they will, making the material on her scarlet shirt bunch and stretch. You raise your head languorously and our eyes meet. The heated gaze lasts that second longer than expected and I can see the question in your eyes clearly. I nod yes and replace my flute atop the dressing table and raise myself up onto shaky limbs.

I want to undress you for her.

I pad slowly to you and find myself taking up a position kneeling directly behind you. I feel you stiffen slightly, your surprise evident. But, her arms are locked around your neck, your mouth is full of her and you make no effort to move. Reverently, I take my hands and graze them up the outer length of your legs, enjoying the feel of the material against my cheek as it rests against the small of your back. I repeat the motion several times, appreciating in a fresh way, the seductive curve of your hips and arse. You are starting to move in our tight embrace. I run my fingers sightlessly to the front of your trousers and I pop open the buttons; one, two, three. I feel her fingers brush against mine and I know when they slip lower by the sharp intake of your breath. I want her to see you. Still on my knees, I hook my hands into the waistband of your black trousers and in one quick movement I strip them from you, leaving you clad in your black sheer knickers and that shirt. You kick your trousers carelessly to the side and when I look, god, when I look, I can see that her fingers are toying with you, pleasuring you. I want to join in, add to your gratification. I rise onto my feet languidly, sliding my hands up and under your shirt as I do so. I kiss your lower back, trailing wet kisses over every inch of bare skin I find, mouthing and nipping higher and higher until I find my teasing mouth biting at the juncture where your elegant neck meets shoulder; pressing my entire body along the lengths of yours as I do so. Your head falls weightlessly against my shoulder, eyes closed, lost to the sensations flying around your body. Your hands which have been lightly playing with her hair, experimentally stroking, now move to grab a fierce hold of mine. You turn your head to me and I seize your lips with my own, branding you with the passion deep inside me at this moment. I feel you moan my name into my mouth and it only serves to inflame my desire. I remove my hands and gently roam them over your shoulders, backwards and forwards, before running them down over the front of your shirt. My fingers unfasten the remaining buttons as I go as I continue to tease you with my eager mouth. I can feel you writhing under our expert and loving teasing. I help you shirk off your shirt, tossing it to join your trousers, long ago forgotten.

What a sight we must make.

You. Almost naked; at the mercy of two attentive and willing lovers.

Her. Seated still, fully clothed yet eyes so full of desire and intent.

Me. Drinking in the sight and sound of you and her and me and this.

You make to disentangle yourself from our embrace and move instead onto the mattress, past where she sits, and lie, goddess like, in the middle of the bed. You look so familiar to me. I know intimately every curve, every freckle, and yet, at the same time, there is a spark of the unfamiliar about you; it’s disquieting and arousing in equal measures. You look positively wanton lying there, in your black underwear. You pat the bed at the side of you and smirking, I dutifully obey your wish. I lie myself next to you, fitting in snugly against the heated length of you and together, we watch as she undresses.

She moves so gracefully.

The thought enters unbidden in my mind as I watch and I admit to myself that I am aroused by her confidence and her naturalness. She stands facing us, relaxed and smiling, and begins by loosening the red shirt from her black pencil skirt; that so tight skirt that hugs her curves so magnificently. She starts at the bottom and slowly removes each button before sliding it off and letting it drop to the carpet. She looks sinfully divine. She then turns 180 °, one eye over her shoulder to check that, yes; she still has our attention, before lowering her zip so very slowly. The sound of the zipper is so loud in the room that I’m suddenly aware that the soft music that has been playing in the background has stopped. But the sounds you, indeed we are making, will make, I anticipate so much more. That skirt slides down over slim hips revealing, to my complete delight, black shorts and hold ups. I couldn’t have kept my moan inside if I had tried. An insistent pulsing starts between my legs and makes me feel slightly dizzy with excitement. I know you realise my delight by the way you glance at me, eyes roving over my body hotly. You lean over to kiss me, and, before my lust filled brain registers what you’re doing, you snake one hand behind my neck to loosen the tie of my dress. I let it fall. The feel of the silken material caressing my already sensitive skin as it slides lower makes me groan; loud enough for her to hear if the look she gives me is any indication. My breasts are bared and it feels so decadent to me. I’ve never acted so shamelessly before, and it feels as if I’m almost looking down on another person, another life.

I revel in it.

I lift my hips up off the bed and give you silent permission to strip it off my body. I lie there, resplendent and unashamed in my nakedness. I feel the weight of her gaze on me and she pads over to us. She climbs onto the bed and without further ado, straddles you. I lie there watching, transfixed. She sits up, straight and proud, and reaching behind her, she unhooks her bra and lets it slide down and onto the duvet beside her. My fingers are itching to feel her breasts, my mouth to taste those delectable nipples; already so hard and needing attention. You sit up from where you’re laying hands eager to explore for yourself and I find myself scooting up the bed to sit behind you.

I want to finish what I started.

I slide my hand to your front and skilfully unfasten the ribbon that holds your bra together, freeing your breasts to her hungry eyes. I slide the straps down your arms and encircle you in my embrace cupping the familiar weight of you in my hands. I kiss your neck, shamelessly rubbing my nipples against your back. They are already so hard I need some friction. I reach out to her with one hand, fingers curling insistently around her neck drawing her down to where I’m offering her your breast.

I watch, captivated, as her mouth fastens onto your nipple. She isn’t being at all gentle and your hands involuntary reach out to hold her against you, wanting more. I can’t help the wetness that I can feel pooling between my legs. You are moaning with such inhibition; I can barely remember feeling such lust as I do right at this moment. I cup the other breast, offering it to her, letting her toy with you and arouse you. I gaze longingly at her mouth, watching as her tongue reaches out to taste and tease before taking your nipple between her teeth to further increase your pleasure. I’m almost delirious with desire. I play with the hair at the nape of your neck, blowing gently on the tender skin I find there. I’m rewarded by a harsh expletive. My mouth is kissing along your neck and I get onto my knees so that I am able to run my tongue along the shell of your ear. I know how much this turns you on, and thus me. I slide my fingers unseen between my own parted thighs, the evidence of my desire glistening on my fingers. You lean against me, desire rendering you incapable of movement. She has her fingers in the waistband of your knickers and I can see the wetness saturating them. Such an erotic image for me. She removes them easily and you spread your legs for her.

She has her head bowed and I’m struck by the idea that she is worshipping you with tongue and fingers. Such a juxtaposition of ideas; the holy and the sinful. I watch, enjoying seeing you as this entirely carnal creature, participating wholeheartedly; observing her, this ultimate giver of pleasure. My hands tremble ever so slightly as my fingers gently run up and down over the edges of your arms, feeling endlessly, completely connected to you in such a primal way, There are no rules here as to how to act, or behave; but instead we are giving our passions free reign.

And it feels liberating.

Your fingers are fluttering involuntarily at your side, digits clenching and unclenching on covers, on me. Your hips suddenly buck upwards, spine arching elegantly before my eyes; prompting me to run one solitary finger so slowly down the length of your back. Your body is now, in fact, trembling, trapped blissfully between us. You try to speak, but words apparently cannot begin to convey how you are feeling. Here, the old adage, a picture paints a thousand words has never been more accurate.

The scene unfolding before me speaks of passion, of a connection, of trust.

Of love.

She is increasing the pace of her love making and hearing the needy breathy tone in your voice, I know that it won’t be long before you come. I want to be able to look into your eyes when you do. The thought flashes through my brain that the moment of true intimacy is ours to share, not hers. So, almost reluctantly I move, from where your body lies reassuringly familiar against mine, to lie down parallel to you.

I reach out to touch you, only to find your hand already seeking blindly for me. I take a firm grasp, your fingers flexing on mine as your head snaps up sharply from the pillow, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your eyes suddenly alight on mine, pinning me where I lie. It feels as if I can see to your very soul, so transparent in this moment you are to me.

I grasp your hand even tighter, watching as you ride her mouth as she takes you, finally, over the edge. I hear my name fall from your lips, so silently, that I’m sure she hasn’t even heard. But I do, oh how I do.

A benediction.

She leans back from you, hands on hips, to sit on her haunches and we share a secret smile across your tired and spent body. You giggle, a free and wonderful sound, and lazily pat the bed beside you, motioning for her to come join us further up the bed. She however, merely smiles fondly at us and shakes her head, choosing instead to slide from the bed and back onto the floor. I snuggle into your side, weaving our splayed fingers together and I raise them to me and kiss them softly. There is a quiet and serene atmosphere - I’d almost go as far as to say it’s reverent, as we lie there on that bed watching her dress.

She says not one word the entire time, simply moving about quickly and efficiently. Once she is dressed again, she approaches the bed, sits on the side and leans over to kiss first you, then, finally, me. I watch as if in slow motion as she stretches over you towards me, lips moving ever downwards, until they caress against my own, burning me.

Then, she is gone.

We lie there for long moments afterwards, just talking and sharing. Two people who are best friends, lovers, soul mates.


End file.
